Two Pairs of Feet
He calls us to remember, the promise we make
The promise we made before we knew the weight of promise
here in this church
On a summer imposter of a Sunday,
He calls out to all seated in silk and florals
To believe
Another life we have
Far greater and bigger than here
Believe
That goodbyes aren’t goodbyes at all
But see you laters
And endings are really beginnings
The grand start of the real
He calls us to remember
He calls us to stand tall
I ask myself, despite my Catholic upbringing
Despite my receiving of the flesh, despite my prayers and questions with eyes risen
Does this messenger believe that which he speaks?
Do the words roll along his mouth with warm assuredness
A peace knowing
Or does he scare?
Does he ever look at his hands
Raised high and good
And see uncertain endings
See that at any moment, death can swing between his fingers rendering them still
And then soon gone and just that
Does he ever hear his voice as he speaks to the elders comforted by this message?
Teenagers who see neither endings nor beginnings, parents who walk in and out between
words muffled
by toothless cries
does he everfrighten for a second,
and as any living thing
cower to death?
He calls us to remember, faith
Perhaps this is where I see our likeness
Our human need for answers
To believe we can find it all
Our optimistic reasons when we are scared beyond reasoning
When no proven fact exists for us to quote or measure
Maybe that’s where I see him
Hands high
Like my eyes up scanning clouds, no beyond, along powdered blues
Pupil and priest
Two pairs of feet, firm to ground
Hands high, like my eyes
Remember the promise you made
Weight of promise flutters light on faith
Does he scare,
When in-between belief
Doubting thought
An impulsive surge
In my mind and heart
Eyes and hands held high
Needing it to be true
Just as the bird who flies into unseen winds